Promise of Blood

“Simple as that?”

“Simple as that. I reached out, I touched the Else, and I willed away all auras.” He pulled his Privileged gloves out of his pockets and showed them to Taniel. They were dark blue with gold runes—not the usual colored runes on white gloves of a Privileged. “My gloves turned this color instantly. A kind of polarizing, as I understand it. Now, when I touch the Else, the area around me becomes devoid of sorcery. Auras can’t be summoned, created, or manipulated. Even when I’m not touching the Else, auras will not come within about six inches of me.”

“Can it be reversed? If you wanted to be a Privileged again?”

“No.” Gothen returned the gloves to his pocket.

Privileged were the most powerful beings on earth. They threw lightning the way a child might a ball. They commanded the sea and the earth. Taniel couldn’t imagine giving up such power.

“Why?” he asked.

Gothen kicked at a paving stone beneath his boot. “I was a very weak Privileged. Barely strong enough to touch the Else, much less command auras. I failed the test to join the royal cabal. I was angry. I thought, if they wouldn’t take me off the street and share with me their wealth and power, then I would become what they feared most: untouchable by their sorcery.”

“I can respect that.”

Gothen returned the grin. “And now I make a lot of money tracking them down and killing them.”

“Have you killed many?”

Gothen held up five fingers.

Probably powder mages too, if he worked for the Kez. Gothen didn’t carry an air rifle, but a pistol would work if the powder mage was caught unawares. Taniel had heard of bounty hunters who used bullets with gold dust melted into them. Gold in a powder mage’s bloodstream prevented a Marked from sparking powder or entering a powder trance. Luckily, that particular technique was both expensive and unreliable.

“How do you feel about the Privileged we’re after?” Taniel asked.

A cloud touched Gothen’s face. “She’s very strong,” he said. “Stronger than any I’ve tracked. Julene says I’m just imagining it.”

“I don’t think so,” Taniel said. “I was there when she wrecked those buildings. Only you standing between us kept me from getting killed. I thank you for that.”

Gothen nodded uncertainly. “I think there’s something you should know.”

“What?”

“When I leapt in front of you, I was touching the Else. I was easily close enough to cut her off. She shouldn’t have been able to reach through. But she did. That’s never happened before.”

Taniel wiped away a bit of sweat beading on his brow. “You’d better warn your partner not to be too confident.”

“As if she’ll listen,” Gothen said. “There’s something almost… personal in this. As if she doesn’t want your help—pit, as if she doesn’t even want my help.”

Taniel snorted. “She’s welcome to go it alone.”

“To go what alone?”

Taniel started. Julene stood over them, a hand on one hip, a frown tugging at the scar on her face. She’d come upon them silently. Only Ka-poel seemed unsurprised by her arrival.

They sat in silence for a moment, Gothen trying to avoid Julene’s glare. He seemed to wither beneath her. Taniel climbed to his feet.

He was thrown down again almost instantly as the ground pitched beneath him.

“Earthquake!” someone shouted.

Tamas was leaning on the edge of his map table when the ground began to buck. He reeled backward, thrown against the wall and then tossed to the floor like he’d been hit by a cavalry charge. Plaster fell from the ceiling, obscuring the room in a haze of dust. Tamas clutched at the floor with both hands, stomach churning as he watched the table thump from side to side until a leg broke. It tumbled askew, jumping like a leaf in the wind. Decorations fell from shelves and furniture upended. Tamas heard panicked shouting out in the streets.

As quickly as it began, the earthquake was over. Tamas climbed to his feet, waving a cloud of plaster dust from his face. The room seemed intact, though most of the furniture was dashed to pieces. He breathed a sigh of relief that the whole house hadn’t caved in on them. Many of the buildings in this part of the city were old and unreliable, and he imagined plenty of people hadn’t been so lucky.

Olem had been thrown to the floor and a bookshelf had crashed down over him. Tamas’s legs wobbled unsteadily as if he’d been at sea for months. He crossed to the bookshelf and lifted it up.

Olem lay on his back, rubbing at his forehead with one hand, using the other to clear away the books that had fallen on him. He took Tamas’s proffered hand.

“You’ve blood on you, sir,” Olem said.

Tamas touched his forehead. His fingers came away crimson. “Don’t even feel it,” he said.

“Must have caught a piece of plaster,” Olem said.

Tamas looked up. There were several good-sized holes in the ceiling, one right above the command table. “Just a bump,” Tamas said. “I’m fine.” He surveyed the room, feeling dizzy. It would take hours to get things returned to order. His maps had been scattered. He swayed.